


I've Got Only Good Intentions

by Daiako (Achrya)



Series: Omegaverse Prompt Fills [9]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Consensual Underage Sex, Dark Tony Stark, Dubious Consent, Intersex Omegas, M/M, Omega Verse, Rough Oral Sex, Teacher-Student Relationship, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:41:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24267592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Achrya/pseuds/Daiako
Summary: Various omegaverse Starker fills, some connected and some not.Chapter Two: Do You Like When I Fuck Your Pretty Mouth Like This? Sanctum Magic School is where the elites and the best of the best attend. Peter, a scholarship student, is very aware he doesn't belong and that's why when he lashes out against Flash Thompson he just knows he's in trouble.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Series: Omegaverse Prompt Fills [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1060931
Comments: 3
Kudos: 180





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> "Im going to fuck you so hard you wont be able to walk tmmw" Combined with “Your Smell is intoxicating. If I stay I’m going to knot you.”

Tony had heard no small amount of ‘concern’ about his relationship, such as it was, with Peter. 

The boy’s aunt had grilled him mercilessly, uncaring of his name and power as she extracted every small detail about the personal internship Peter was going to be working. Most of it had been lies, of course, since he couldn’t exactly tell her he was taking his nephew out of the country to fight Captain America and friends and then keeping him around to oversee his superhero career, and pick the kid’s brain about robotics and chemistry and anything else that struck him, because Peter was one of the few people who could keep up with him. So instead he’d made up stuff about a big lab of interns, overseen by many responsible scientists, and a considerable stipend in exchange for all of Peter’s ideas being Stark property. 

Shady capitalism was easy for people to accept. 

Pepper had fretted about the optics of it, him taking a very underage omega under his wing. She didn’t suspect him of doing anything wrong, which proved she still saw too much goodness in him, but worried that he’d be accused of it. She was careful about things, wrote out Peter’s contract personally, made sure he actually did things with other interns and researchers, tried to keep Tony from constantly dragging him off into a private lab during the week. 

But didn’t know that Spiderman frequently slipped in on the weekends and stayed over to work through the night with him. 

Rhodey knew him better than anyone else in the world and so he worried about Tony’s intentions. He’d pulled him aside the first time he’d met Peter and demanded to know what Tony, a grown alpha with poor impulse control and a tendency to break everything he touched, wanted with a sweet, wide eyed, innocent omega who’d just barely hit his maturity. Peter had a scent that was so fresh, so clean, it screamed that he hadn’t even had his first heat yet and yes, Tony had noticed and yes, his mouth might have watered a little when they were shut up Peter’s room,It was the sort of things that would bring old perverted alphas running and, as it turned out, maybe Tony was one of those. 

But he’d told Rhodey he wanted to protect the kid. See the next generation kept safe and lead right, make sure they made better choices. Keep the kid’s neck from between the teeth of every horny alpha thug and super criminal by getting him a better suit, some quality dampeners, introducing him to the other Avengers, getting him on the right side of the government so they didn’t come after him. A bunch of stuff Rhodey saw the value of and had accepted, though Tony suspected half of that ready acceptance was not wanting to call his best friend a disgusting child toucher.

Which he hadn’t been at the time. 

Even if he thought about it often enough, hand around his cock as he breathed in the linger scent of Peter in his lab, thought about that unnaturally strong, flexible, willowy body while he jerked off, imagined that voice crying ‘Mr. Stark!’ while he painted expensive workbenches and tools like a stupid teenager who couldn’t hold back long enough to get into a shower and not make a mess. 

He hadn’t been doing anything though. Not really. Just scent marking the boy sometimes, for his own good (That Flash kid he babbled about sometimes had all the hallmarks of an adolescent alpha who was marking his territory with aggression, which could go all wrong, but Tony’s scent would keep him away), upgrading some of his tech under the guise of needing better stuff for his internship, slipping him little gifts in the form of suit upgrades, surprise trips, clothes with the excuse of needing his intern to look good in public. Peter accepted everything with minimal fuss, so long as Tony didn’t outright try to give him money (no need, thanks to Pepper’s contract work.), and never questioned why a necklace with a tiny arc reactor charm found its way into a box alongside a new phone. 

No, he’d just started wearing the thing, blushing sweetly when he caught Tony eyeing it and playing with it when he was thinking. 

He’d even accepted a few not exactly totally mentor minded gifts in the form of cute little skirts and dresses that Tony’s personal shopped assured him were popular with young omegas these days, and appropriate underwear that Tony of course didn’t know anythng about. It wasn’t creepy, he was just helping a young omega explore himself and all the options that were out there; sure Peter was male identifying but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have fun with clothes or enjoy a lacy omega cut thong or two. 

Not that Tony knew anything about that aspect. Just the encouraging mentor part. 

But none of that amounted to actually doing anything he shouldn’t. Maybe some eyebrows would raise but it wasn’t anyone could call the cops about which, admittedly, not a great line to draw but it was the one he was going with. 

Had been going with, until the day he walked into the lab, freshly delivered sushi in hand, to find Peter red faced and panting in front of the open mini-fridge. Tony smelled him immediately, didn’t need to move any further than the threshold of the room because he was so attuned to Peter’s scent and every little fluctuation in it. If he was being strictly honest he’d smelled the heat on him hours ago, when the boy had come bouncing through the window of the penthouse, still sweaty from patrol. 

His scent was usually mild, warm and and toffee-like, but when he’d met Tony it had been rich vanilla and melty caramel, spread thick on Tony’s tongue and filling his lungs, plus just a little bit of heat damp. He should have said something then, should have sent him away right that second, but he’d told himself it was dangerous. If someone less moral got a whiff of him, especially in that apartment of his, which was not scentproofed or set up to accommodate a heating omega at all, then what? 

The idea of another alpha getting their hands on Peter made Tony’s vision red with rage. 

He couldn’t allow that. 

“Hey kid,” He said, ambling deeper into the room like his dick wasn’t thickening in his jeans, like his gums weren’t sore and itching around his alpha teeth, like spit wasn’t trying to flood his mouth. Like his hindbrain wasn’t wide awake and perked up, shitty alpha instincts scratching and snapping to be acknowledged, to be allowed to come out. “You okay there?” 

Peter looked him with big wet doe eyes. “I…um. Oh god this is embarrassing but I think. I think my heat is here? I’m…yeah. It’s. stuff. I don’t-” He stopped, standing up straighter; Tony’s eyes zeroed in on the sweat beading on his forehead, trickling down his face. “It hurts.”

The heat was coming on fast, but Tony had read that first ones often did. An omega could go from the first spike of temperature to a full fever in twelve hours the first time and if Peter had already been at a point that Tony could smell him at a distance it was no surprise he was already starting to hurt. The only surprise was that he hadn’t noticed sooner and kept away. Peter was more than smart enough to realize what was happening, and that being in an enclosed space with an alpha was the last place he wanted to be if he wanted to walk away unscatched. 

Yet here he was. 

But that was fine. Tony could handle this. Responsible adult time. 

Because he was so good at that. 

Tony licked his lips, nodded. “I can smell you.” 

Peter’s face went cherry red. “O-oh. I-” He shifted on his feet, blinking again. “Mr. Stark, what should I do?” 

Tony bit back a groan. This kid, what was he thinking, asking him something like that, looking at him like that, all sweet and trusting and hopeful? It was like he wanted Tony to do something terrible to him. He slanted his eyes to the side, avoiding that earnest open expression, and sighed. “I’ve got a room you can stay in. We’ll call your aunt, let her know you’re safe and sound, in a heat room.” 

And if he was lucky May Parker would wait until the next morning to come tearing through the city to invade Stark Tower and demand access to her nephew, potentially with the cops in tow. Maybe reporters too, with the promise of catching Tony Stark molesting a poor innocent child. 

Peter nodded, a grateful smile curving that plush mouth. Tony licked his lips again. “Okay. Thank you, Mr. Stark.” 

“Right. Well. You go ahead up to the penthouse, to the guest room. Take, uh, dinner with you. You should be stocked with water and snacks-” Because perhaps Tony had been ready for something like this since he’d met Peter, just in case. “Let Friday know if you need anything.” 

Peter tilted his head, expression openly curious. “You aren’t coming with me? …up to the penthouse, not…not the room. For. Dinner! It’s for you too, right?” 

Tony laughed, short and brittle. “No. You…I can’t be around you, Peter.” 

The way the kid’s face fell hurt Tony almost as much as taking Thor’s lightning to the chest did, and had an unfortunate after effect of lingering guilt. “Oh.” 

“You have to know you…your smell is-” Like taking a hit of any of those designer drugs Tony had spent his teens and twenties popping and snorting in hopes of pissing off his father, or secretly evil father figure, cranked all the way up. He rubbed a hand over his face then, keeping his voice as bland and even as he could, laid all his cards on the table. Peter was smart enough, mature enough (sometimes, and only in comparison to Tony) to handle it. “If I stay near you I’ll fuck you, and I’ll knot you, and I will ruin you. You won’t be able to walk tomorrow when I’m done with you.”

Peter was a shade of red that Tony hadn’t known existed in nature, closer than was probably healthy to the color of his suits, and the hand he was using to keep the fridge open was shaking. The bottles lining the door were rattling from the force of superpowered trembling. His lips parted around a surprised inhale. 

Tony wanted to stick his cock between them, to shove it so far down Peter’s throat that he gagged and cried far tears, until his eyes rolled back. 

“Okay.” Peter exhaled, almost squeaked. 

Tony’s eyebrows jumped up. “Excuse me?” 

“Okay. Let’s…do that.” Peter’s eyes darted left, right, then back, glinting with a sheen of determination that was actually worrying. He knew that look, it came right before potentially swanning off a building into a situation that might kill him. Tony, as a general rule, did not approve of that look. “…please.” 

Tony looked skyward, considering the many many ways this would backfire, how angry and disappointed everyone who gave a shit about him would be, how his image would tank, how he was breaking the law, how it would haunt Peter if anyone ever found out (Tony wouldn’t let it haunt him. He’d throw himself on the metaphorical sword if he needed to, to make sure the storm that would follow never touched Peter.). He thought about the many many MANY reasons not to do what Peter was asking of him. 

He looked back at the boy, found him with his bottom lip trapped between his teeth, finger twisting that tiny arc reactor around, and sighed. He crooked a finger, beckoning Peter closer. “Sure kid, I haven’t done anything illegal in days. You want to do it here, or upstairs?”

Peter all but lept across the room to get to him, smiling big and relieved. “Whatever you want, Mr. Stark.” 

Talk about famous last words. 


	2. Magic School AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do You Like When I Fuck Your Pretty Mouth Like This?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Starker Magic School AU (Not. Not Hogwarts but very much HP inspired) In which Peter is a student in the Howling Commandos House and Tony is billionaire, philanthropist, playboy, magical war hero, and a professor of Magical and Otherworldly Technology. And also a bad man. 

Peter was in trouble. No, no, trouble didn’t even begin to scratch the surface of the absolutely shit show he’d walked himself into. He, Peter Parker, muggle born who’d gotten a scholarship to the most well regarded and elite magical school on the East Coast, had just hexed on Flash Thompson, pureblood and poster child for Shield House, so hard the other boy had gone flying backwards, hit his head off the wall, and was maybe bleeding all over to corridor. Which was already bad but to make matters worse Flash hadn’t even put a hand on him this time. 

No, all Flash had done was make a snide comment on how Peter should give up his spot as Professor Stark’s TA, since all omegas were good for were breeding more wizards (a patently sexist and disgusting remark better suited for the Dark Ages than now, some real basement level pureblood propaganda that normally wouldn’t rile Peter up at all.) and that the position was better given to someone who hadn’t spread their legs to get it. 

And that, really, was what had done him in. An insult to himself Peter could brush off, who cared what someone like Flash thought of anyone, but insulting Professor Stark? Suggesting that Tony Stark would do something as gross as making a student fuck him for a TA spot, that he would abuse his position like that? Yeah, Professor Stark had a reputation from when he was younger, mostly for sleeping with professors during his own school years, and one or two or two dozen little scandles before coming to teach at The Sanctum, but that had been years ago. Professor Stark was a hero, he’d helped defeat Loki when the Asgardian wizard had brought the Otherworld’s down on New York, nearly exposing magic in the process, he’d stopped Hammer when he’d tried to infuse the Leyline energies into normal humans and nearly unstabilized the wizarding world, he’d helped expose widespread corruption and rooted out the Hydra Cult hiding within the Ministry.

He’d given Peter a chance, taking notice of him in his very first year when he’d been nothing but an overwhelmed kid just learning about magic for the first time, and encouraged him to work hard, to not back down when people bullied him, and to follow his interests. He’d arranged summer lab time for Peter to delve deep into the line that seperated Alchemy from non-magical chemistry, to theorize and test out blending magic and tech, had even let him get his hands on (in a controlled and monitored environment) Other Wordly items to study and take apart. 

Professor Stark had given Peter so much, and asked for nothing in exchange. He didn’t even noticed Peter’s stupid crush on him because he was a good person who would never ever take advantage of his students, and Flash didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as that man let alone open his mouth to talk shit. 

It had just been too much for Peter to handle and, well, he’d lashed out. 

Hard. 

And now he was staring down at Flash, skin gone gray and face a grimace of pain, blood trickling out over the stone of the hallway, like an idiot. An idiot who had been busted, wand in hand and still hot from the hex, by the very professor he’d been defending. 

He was going to be expelled. His wand was going to be broken, he would be cast out of the wizarding world, and that was just the best case scenario. Maybe the authorities would be called and, with all the influence Flash’s family had, maybe Peter would get a first class ticket to The Raft, tossed into some cell, and forgotten about. This was, after all, a magical attack and that was a pretty serious crime and-

“Parker,” Stark’s voice, low and urgent, drug him from his spiraling thoughts. “Did Thompson attack you first? Did he hurt you?” 

It would have been easy to lie. Peter considered it for about half a second, Flash was a bully, he’d shoved him and grabbed him and yanked him around before, everyone knew he liked to mess with Peter. People might believe he’d just been acting in self-defense, that-

“No.” Peter shook his head. He couldn’t do that. Lying like that just...it wasn’t him, even if there was a chance he could get away with it. “He just...said some gross stuff about me. It was stupid, I shouldn’t have...I messed up.” 

“What did he say exactly.” Professor Stark asked, expression pinched. “I need to know if I’m going to help you out here Par- Peter. This is pretty much the opposite of good and if you don’t want Headmaster Coulson, or worse, Minister Fury getting involved I need whatever you’ve got.” 

Help him out? He looked up at his professor, lips parting in surprise; for just a second he forgot the situation and could only focus on that Professor Stark wanted to help him. But then he was crashing back to reality, shaking his head again and looking at his feet. “Just stuff being an omega and...and that I must have slept with you to become your TA.” 

He felt dirty just saying that outloud, to let Stark hear something so wrong and off base. 

Stark hummed then sighed. “I wish you’d lied to me kid. Say the fucker groped you or pushed into your space. I...I’m going to have to bring Coulson in. I’ll find a way to keep you out of trouble but-”

Peter’s head snapped up. “You will? Why?” 

“Why? What kind of question is that?” Stark’s eyebrow lifted. “Do you want to get expelled? Should I start looking for a new TA-”

“NO!” Peter shouted then, wincing and rocking back on his heels under Professor Stark’s amused look, added, quieter. “No. I-I- thank you, Sir. Anything you can do to help would be amazing and I...I already owe you so much-” 

“Peter.” 

“And now I’ll owe you everything. Anything.” 

Professor Stark stared at him, head tilting to the side, expression the same one he wore when he found a problem without a readily available answer. Thoughtful, curious, intense, and a little bit...hungry, wanting. Peter shivered, a chill creeping up his spine. 

“Right.” Professor Stark said finally, looking away. “Three portraits down from my office door there’s a painting of a man. Say ‘Tony sent me, Jarvis’ and he’ll let you in. Wait there while I take care of this.” 

Peter nodded and, with one last grateful look at his teacher, hurried away. 

\---

“Do you like when I fuck your pretty mouth like this?” Professor Stark asked, voice low and dark, pushing deeper into Peter’s spasming throat. He was holding him by the chin, forcing him to tilt his head back and keeping his mouth pried open with a thumb hooked over his teeth. He was smiling, wide and toothy enough that his alpha eye teeth were on display, and his eyes were so dark in the floating, artificial fairy lights that they were more like twin black holes than the warm brown Peter was so used to. 

Stark’s cock was heavy in his mouth, pushing down on his squirming tongue, filling his straining throat, and long. It tasted of sweat and skin and the bitterness of precum when the older man drew back enough that Peter could taste it, instead of it just dribbling down his throat in thich threads he could barely swallow down. Stark was hard, so hard, and hot and throbbing, the big head prodding the back of his mouth, scraping the inside of his throat with every lazy roll of his hips that forced him back in deeper and deeper. His whole cock was big, actually, enough so that Peter had more fallen to his knees in shock and fear at the sight than eased himself down for this. 

When Stark had returned from ‘handling things’ he'd been strange, eyes wide and and an almost manic expression on his face. He’d taken one look at Peter, curled up on a chair in front of the fireplace, and stormed right over to haul him up to his feet. 

Coulson had revealed, when Stark had been arguing on Peter’s behalf, that there were people among the staff and students who thought Stark was too close to his protege. People who thought something untoward was going on and that Peter was benefiting from favoritism. Coulson had already looked into it and found nothing, of course, but he strongly suggested that Stark take a few steps back for the sake of both of their reputations. 

_ “I’m not doing that, of course, fuck Coulson and his ‘professional opinion’. You won’t be expelled, thanks to me, but you’ll have to spend some of our sessions in detention with Barton for a while.” Stark had said, tone absent in spite of how bright and focused his gaze was on Peter. “You said you’d owe me, if I kept you out of trouble right? Right, so, here’s the thing Kid: if I’m going to be accused of something, I figure I might as well be doing it. Strip.”  _

Stark swept a finger over his cheeks, gathering up the tears running from Peter’s eyes. He couldn’t stop himself from crying, not as he’d taken off his clothes and not now, with Professor Stark stretching out his throat and panting above him. He felt...he didn’t know how he felt. It was hard to think, to grasp onto anything except the dark something that had settled low in his stomach when he’d fully realized what was about to happen. 

“I can smell that you like it.” Stark breathed out, hips stuttering forward in quick little thrusts; his cock battered Peter’s throat, twitched and seemed to swell, to stretch and make it change to fit it’s girth even though there couldn’t possibly be any room left for more. A sharp snap of hips and Peter’s nose was brushing curly hair; he gagged, throat convulsing as thick drool poured out past the tight seal of his lips. 

Peter was choking on him, couldn’t breathe past it, and he still hadn’t gotten all of it in. The flared base, skin loose without the swell of a knot, loomed just out of reach. Another push and Peter gagged again, hands clenching tight where they were resting on his bare thighs; the wet gurgling was so loud to his ears. 

“You're so wet, Peter. That sweet little cunt of yours is just dripping, isn’t it?” Stark asked, hand cradling the base of his skull, holding him down when Peter tried to jerk back, to get air. He was moving faster, sliding in and out of Peter’s mouth with barely there pulses of his hips. “You’re already a slut for my cock Peter, and you haven’t even had it yet.” 

Even if Peter could have spoken to deny it there wouldn’t have been a point. His cock was hard and jutting up, smearing precum on his belly, and his thighs were wet with his slick. He could smell it too, that slightly sweet, slightly metallic tang, and it was humiliating and confusing (why? Why was this happening, why was he so hot, so keyed up that he felt like he might burst out of skin at any moment, why was he harder than he could ever remember being. He didn’t like this, he didn’t; being used, air cut off until spots danced on the back of his eyelids before being let up to gulp in air while the head of Stark’s dick rubbing slow and languid on his tongue, and then forced back down to do it again: it was terrible. 

He didn’t know why he was doing it, why he’d taken off his clothes for Stark, let him reach between his legs and slide his fingers where only Peter had ever touched before, and then put him on his knees with an order to “Open up, Peter.” He didn’t have to do this, not even for keeping him from getting expelled. Or sent to jail or…

Or maybe he did owe it to him. Stark had done a lot for him, and was still doing a lot. 

Dark eyes bore down into him, through him, and Stark smiled wider. “I need you to suck now kid, and then swallow everything I give you.” 

Peter tried, swallowing and sucking as best he could as his teacher used his mouth but imagined he wasn’t doing a very good job at it when he was already fighting to stay upright, to keep his aching jaw open, to stay still and in place against the harsh thrusts. 

Stark swore loudly, pushing in to the hilt in Peter’s mouth. His cock pulsed on Peter’s tongue and hot, thick liquid poured into his throat. He swallowed, swallowed, swallowed, vision swimming and head fogging. The world dimmed, lost color at the edges and-

He could breathe, suddenly, and more to the point he could cough, deep hacking ones that forced spit and cum from his clogged throat. He almost didn’t register the splash of something across his face, too busy hunching over and gagging a mess into his hands. 

Stark patted him on the head. “Well done, for a first timer. Get cleaned up then head back to your dorm. I’ll see for class prep in the morning.” 

And then he was gone, sweeping away in his perfectly cut designed robes, vanishing through a doorway deeper into his quarters, to leave Peter a blurry eyed, naked and still guilty turned off mess. He moved slowly, climbing to his feet, acutely aware of the painful bobbing of his cock, to fumble his wand from his clothes, and banish the mix of fluids clinging to his skin and the mess on the floor, erasing all evidence of what had happened, except from what was in his memory. 

That he carried back to his dorm, into his bed, and let carry him through jerking off while he sniffled into his pillow. 


End file.
